


Burns and Bedsheets

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Burns, Cuddling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Memories, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Crowley always said he 'Sauntered Vaguely Downwards' here's the consequences behind that.





	Burns and Bedsheets

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @lemonchomps !!!

Crowley was frozen as he felt the wind whip through his hair as he fell, the same thought was cycling through his mind ‘why.’ He didn’t know what he did, he didn’t mean to do what he did. He let out a sharp yelp as he felt like he was too hot, immense pain coursing through his body.

Crowley looked over and squinted as a brightness he had never seen before was shown, it was red and orange and so incredibly hot against his skin. Then he looked back to his body and his eyes widened when he saw the patches of skin peeling off and the angry red under it. 

He ground his teeth as he felt the injuries spread to his wings, the feathers becoming singed and burning black. Smoke was wafting off of his abused body, the burns becoming so bad the edges were blackening.

Then without warning, he hit something flat and hard, and it was so jarring that the breath was knocked out of him. He laid there for what felt like an eternity before he was able to roll over and sit up slightly. For the first time since he was created, he felt delicate, like one sudden move and he would fall apart. He felt peculiar wetness in his eyes, and he reached up to brush the droplets of water away before they could roll down his cheeks.

He ventured to glance down at his body once again and couldn’t look away as he saw the rough and twisted wounds. His entire body was an angry red, but the places where the skin had peeled were the worst. The injuries were already healing, but he could tell that most of his body would be covered in a patchwork of raised tissue. 

Crowley let out something between a huff and hiss and let the top half of himself drop down onto the ground once again.

||

Crowley hissed quietly as he felt the burning feeling intensify when he stretched his arm out farther to mist his plants. His scars had been bothering him more often; lately, the pins and needles sensation growing to be a sharp, biting pain. It had been years since his scars had given him any problems, but ever since he had run into the bookshop surrounded by flames, it almost seemed to reactivate the pain. 

Crowley sighed as he set down the plant mister and rolled his shoulders to try and relieve some of the pain. He left the green room and sauntered into his bedroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror propped against one of the walls. He unbuttoned his silk shirt and shed it from his body, Crowley closed his eyes in concentration and let the facade fall off of him. He opened his eyes and nearly flinched as he saw the burn scar decorating over half of his face. 

His eyes scanned the reflection and looked at each of his scars, the large patches adorning his shoulders and torso from when he fell, the raised scar tissue from where all of his eyes had burned out when he fell. He turned around and looked at his back where it looked like the entirety of it was twisted and deformed with various scarring.

Crowley brushed his fingers across the scar on his face, he couldn’t feel the touch, but the burn still pulsed in pain. There was no way he could stop the pain, he didn’t even honestly know what had caused it to reignite. He sighed as he looked at the cellphone sitting on the bedside table with resignation.

He picked up the device and selected the first of two contacts that he had saved in it. It rang three times before anyone picked up.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed-“ Aziraphale answered.

“Angel, it’s me.” Crowley interrupted.

“Crowley? Why ever are you calling me, we’re meeting in an hour at The Ritz.” Crowley swallowed thickly at the statement.

“It’s actually about that angel, I’m afraid I can’t make it tonight something has come up.” 

“Oh… alright then, may I ask what has happened?

“Oh, everything is fine angel just don’t feel like going.” Crowley winced at his blunt answer, he hadn’t wanted to lie, but he knew it was the only way to get Aziraphale to leave him alone. He tried not to feel guilty as he took the phone away from his ear and pressed the end call button before Aziraphale could respond.

Crowley left his phone on the bedside table and wandered back into the green room, he stood in the center looking at each of the plants. His eyes landed on the rather large bonsai tree he had raised for the past few decades. Crowley exhaled slowly as he sat down in his bed and moved into a position only possible for someone with too many vertebrates.

The sheets were cool on his scars, and the feeling of the smooth fabric on his skin seemed to lessen the pain enough for it to be manageable. He breathed deeply and steadily as he tried to not focus on the memories that came along with the scars. Fire licking at his skin, the deafening sound of air as he plummeted down, and the feeling of hitting the ground.

The attempts at avoiding his memories were futile, and Crowley shivered under the blankets even as he felt like he was burning. All of the different, overwhelming sensations were enough for him not to notice the presence of someone else in his flat.

Aziraphale stood at the doorway to Crowley’s room and stared at the lump under the blankets. He slowly walked towards it before stopping in front of it.

“Crowley?” any movement that it was making ceased when Aziraphale made his presence known.

“What are you doing here, angel?” the demon said quietly, the question barely audible through the blankets. 

“I came to see if you’re all right, you never speak like that to me, not since those two demons decided to ‘visit’ you, my dear,” Aziraphale responded softly.

Crowley took a deep breath even though he hadn’t needed to and shrugged the quilt off of his face letting the twisted smooth burn scar show. Aziraphale blinked a few times as he processed the new look and his expression softened even more.

“My dear, are these…your scars? From when you fell?” Crowley let out a sound adjacent to ‘mmph’ as he confirmed what the angel asked. 

Slowly, Aziraphale peeled back the rest of the blankets away from Crowley’s body. The several burn scars and cuts from when he fell were revealed.

“My dear, why do you hide under the sheets? These scars aren’t anything for you to feel bad about, they’re beautiful.” Aziraphale said.

Crowley opened his eyes at the statement, surprised that Aziraphale thought that. He sat up slightly using his forearm, he winced slightly as the movement disturbed the scar of the burn on his shoulder. 

“Angel, they’re a scourge upon my skin. A reminder of what I did wrong, even though I didn’t mean to do it.” The fallen angel mumbled out. 

Aziraphale reached forward and cupped Crowley’s jaw as he brushed his thumb along the scar, the fallen angel leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. The angel smiled slightly at the show of affection and leaned down, so they’re foreheads met. 

“My dear… you’re beautiful no matter what is adorned upon your body, nothing you say will make me change my mind.” Aziraphale whispered before leaned down more and brushed their lips together.

Crowley smiled against the chaste kiss the deep throbbing pain coming from his scars becoming pins and needles momentarily. When the throbbing returned the fallen angel kissed quietly, and Aziraphale pulled back so he could scan his eyes down the fallen angel’s body.

“Are you’re scars hurting you, my dear?” Aziraphale inquired.

Crowley looked away quickly before he tentatively nodded his head, and Aziraphale made a unique sound in his throat. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Aziraphale asked softly. 

Crowley hummed something unintelligible before nodding his head once again and leaned back into the mattress before he curled up into a ball. Aziraphale who was now in the bed as well had nestled up behind Crowley and had one of his arms thrown around him and his head tucked into where Crowley’s neck and shoulder met.

“Why are your scars hurting you now? If you don’t mind me asking, my dear?” Aziraphale mumbled against the fallen angel’s skin.

“It was the fire,” Crowley muttered.

“You mean the one where we switched bodies?”

“No… the one where the bookshop burned down… I think it was the heat and the strength of the emotions that just overwhelmed me. It reminded me too much…too much of my fall.” 

“Oh…oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.”

“Isssss not your fault.” Crowley responded sluggishly, the lengthening of his s’ being a sign of the fallen angel beginning to doze off.

Crowley burrowed even farther into the blankets as the burning pain had finally ceased, and he relaxed his tense muscles. It was getting more challenging to keep his eyes open until eventually, he decided not to keep trying to stay awake and fell into something between a doze and sleep.


End file.
